Serendipity
by 13empress
Summary: Slash K/S: Jim disappears on a planet that breaks out in war. Going on the telepathic connection to Jim that he's been hiding from everyone, Spock takes McCoy with him to the planet and uses this link to find Jim, who has been kidnapped and badly injured
1. Part 1 of 3

_This was done as a gift for a friend and will be posted in three parts. It was a response to a prompt on the second STXI kink meme. It's being posted on Livejournal as well. The idea is - Kirk gets separated from the crew, loses his voice and this puts him in danger. I kinda took that and ran with it -- and yes this is SLASH._

_Please read, review and most importantly enjoy :)  
_

* * *

"Nothing, sir, but I swear the signal's going through!" Lieutenant Hawkins switched frequencies and tried again. The man turned to look at Spock and shook his head, confusion and worry etched across his brow. "And I'm sending on Captain Kirk's channel, Commander, but he's not answering."

Did he take his communicator with him? That was the lieutenant's next question but he didn't verbalize it, only stared at his Vulcan commander with frustration. No, Jim had taken his communicator. Spock had made certain of that. He had seen the captain down to the planet personally the day prior and had spoken with him last night. Jim was fine, they had spoken of inconsequential things then Jim had complained about the food – again – and predicted a safe return. There had been no code words, no strange conversational tangents meant to hint that something else was going on, that Jim's return would be delayed. Something was terribly wrong.

"Try again," Spock said tersely, his attention split between the communications station and science console, quietly taking in all of the information being thrown at him by the officers monitoring the situation on the planet through every channel and method possible. _Jim, where are you?_

"Are you trying all departments, all levels?"

"We had the Lidioch and Thonia Central Command just five minutes ago." Uhura said quietly, her expression schooled to be professional but he could see that she was troubled by what was happening. "Either the whole communications network on the entire planet went down, or – where was the captain going?" For a moment Uhura thought Spock wouldn't answer. There had been confidential meetings between Federation representatives and various Kijani heads of states, organized to be held at secret locations and times which no one was privy to except for the captain, first officer and sometimes the CMO.

"Romenos Central Command," Spock said sotto voce, and did not elaborate on why the captain should visit the government of one particular Kijani nation. "We must locate the captain, immediately – and discretely if possible."

Uhura gave him a long look. "Yes, sir," she finally said and turned back to her own board.

"A missile has just been launched from the planet!"

"Red alert! Shields and evasive maneuvers! On screen!"

"It's not aimed for us, sir, it's – it's going for –"

The entire bridge crew froze as they watched a bright light flare across a section of the grey-blue planet they were orbiting. The planetary conflict that the Kijani had been attempting to delay was ahead of schedule, with the captain down on the planet, out of contact, location unknown.

"Lieutenant Hawkins, contact the _USS Prahran_ and advise the Ambassador that today's meetings are cancelled." Spock said, the calmness of his voice which was usually so comforting had become cold and hard. He turned to Uhura. "Get me the sector commander and Headquarters."

* * *

"…Ambassador Morales will be handling the situation. For the moment, learn what you can and sit tight."

Spock listened to the orders and controlled himself. Beside him the doctor was not quite so composed. The human had his arms folded, thumb pressing tight into his lip, as if he were preventing himself from speaking. Outrage and disgust flowed out from every line of the man's body. Everyone else wore more timid expressions of puzzlement and indignation before they all stood and filed out mutely, realizing that they had been dismissed and were no longer welcomed. The only one who remained was Doctor McCoy.

"Spock," the admiral said quietly, her expression caught between awkwardness and compassion. "I'm due in a briefing so I'll get back to you." The woman nodded to McCoy, "Doctor." Then the screen went dead before the Chief Surgeon could object any further.

The silence stretched on.

McCoy broke it first. "When I gave him those damn shots, I asked him again and again what the hell he was going to do down there, what the hell was this diplomatic mission that didn't have any diplomats, and you know what Jim said? Spock'll explain, Bones – don't worry Bones, Spock'll explain…" The man turned and looked at him, worry, hope and fear crowding the lines of his face, waiting.

A sharp stab of something, not grief, not loss, logical and painful, churned in his torso. Wordlessly he handed the datapad to McCoy and waited as the man read it, his eyebrows rising ever higher.

"_Spock, there's this little light on the chair panel that doesn't always work – I've been meaning to have someone look at it but, well, just um, tap it, doesn't meant anything so don't worry, okay? And if Scotty bugs you to –"_

"_Captain, I intend to return the ship to you in optimum working condition. You will be on the planet for a mere thirty hours – hardly enough time for Mr. Scott to cause a disturbance…"_

"I have been permitted to beam down and locate the captain, but it shall not be a Starfleet sanctioned mission. In the event of my capture, Starfleet shall deny any knowledge of my actions." Spock said, much too quietly. "It is not an order, but your presence… in the event of a medical emergency would be much appreciated."

There was disbelief but it passed quickly; the _Enterprise_ was often the subject to off-the-book missions, due to Jim's particular tenacity in excelling where all others failed. Spock ignored the suspicious warmth in the doctor's eyes that he recognized as sympathy. McCoy tentatively raised a hand but then lowered it. Had he been Jim, the doctor would have grasped him by the shoulder.

"Spock, you're not serious - going down there without a team, that's almost suicidal! How the hell are you going to find him? It will be chaos down there, and you're going to be noticed pretty quickly. I want Jim back as much as you do, but-"

Spock resisted the urge to flinch as the sensation of dread, icy and painful, spread further at the reminder of what he had found and stood to lose if Jim were to – _no, doctor, I want him back more,_ he wanted to declare but dared not. Their mindlink had held hidden costs – as did all emotional indulgence – and this was a price he would not have ever wanted Jim to pay. But to obtain an objective, one traded something else. He stared at the doctor's face, permitted to brazenly display his concern worry and despair for all to see whilst he was required to keep his face continually impassive.

"I will be disguised."

"There's something you're not telling me, between you and Jim…' McCoy observed with his usual frankness, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Think I ought to know before I follow your crazy ass down there?"

The Vulcan hesitated. "I would know," he said plainly, "if the captain were dead." He didn't elaborate but from the dawning look of realization on the physician's face, McCoy had arrived at his own conclusion. It was only a very weak link, hardly conclusive, except – "He is alive."

"And you can find him?" The doctor was not entirely convinced.

Yes, he would find Jim. Secretly, Spock knew he could do it right now through concentration, deepening the link until it thickened and became undeniable. Then it would be beyond the point where it could be removed without consequence. It was already too easy, the natural shielding of Jim's mind eroded away by their mental contact – Jim's mind recognized him, welcomed him, and had on several occasions spontaneously reached for him.

_And when he realizes what you have done and demands that you release him, what shall you do then?_ It would be illogical to not exhaust all conventional methods first – yes, Spock thought, that would be a last resort and he would do everything possible to stave off strengthening the bond. But he knew that if it came down to it, he would do it.

_Even when it may cost you his trust? _

Trust would be utterly useless when one was dead. "I am certain that I shall find him."

The man eyed him critically with a slight smile, the same type of expression that Spock had observed when the doctor was confounded yet pleased and unwilling to show it. "God, Spock, you're not playing around are you? This is for real. You – and him – and –"

But it wasn't real, some insidious part of him whispered, there has not been time to make it real. As it stood, Jim was just beginning to accept the idea of him as anything more than a confidant, had no idea of the link between them, or if he did, had chosen to ignore it and Spock had not dared to tell him…. The Vulcan glanced at the doctor, face a cold mask. "In medical diagnosis, you are my superior, doctor. However do not presume that this gives you the right to seek information regarding my personal life."

For once, Doctor McCoy did not interrogate him further. "What do you need?"

"Prepare an emergency medical kit and meet me in transporter room 3 in twenty minutes."

* * *

Jim woke in stages, dizzy and nauseous. The floor seemed to shake and wave beneath him, as if it was not quite solid. His head ached, his vision refused to focus and there was a fog over his thoughts, making it hard to think. Gradually he began to remember… arriving on the planet… saying goodbye to Spock cheerfully – oh Spock – promising that he would back within thirty hours… the meeting… the roar overhead… something going terribly wrong…

There was a distant boom and then the entire structure shook, dust sprinkling down on him, startling him from the dazed shock he'd fallen into. Jim shot up from his prone position before pain hit him, almost toppling him back onto the floor. Something felt wet and hot on the left side of his head, a head wound he realized belatedly, and almost immediately Jim thought he could hear Bones' familiar grumble, calling him names, ordering him to staunch the bleeding dammit Jim and to stop sitting there like an idiot. He turned, trying to see if there was anything nearby to use and blinked, his brain struggling to interpret what he was seeing.

Next to him lay the body of his guide, one of the many Ambassadorial aides that he was passed between whenever he was planetside. With a gasp of revulsion and shock, Jim rolled away from her dark blood, staining the floor in an ever expanding circle. Despite the throbbing pain that seemed to dig further into his skull with every movement, he scrambled to his feet, knowing that that he had to leave this place before anyone came back for seconds and found him instead.

Jim staggered to the closest door and sluggishly pushed it open. A wall of hot smoke greeted him, making him choke and cough. There were people running – survivors, Jim realized, of the initial attack – crying with large fearful gulps as they jostled to escape from the government grounds. Some had given up on heading for the gates and were climbing the walls. A woman in the local law enforcement uniform saw him, yelling something as she grabbed him by the arm. Before he could open his mouth to tell her who he was, there was another shrill cry that sent a shudder straight down his spine followed by the deafening bang of an explosion.

Jim allowed the officer to drag him into the crowd as they ran for their lives.

* * *

The doctor was for once silent on the subject of having his molecules scattered all over creation but stubbornly clung to his 'little black bag' – the medical satchel – though Spock had offered to carry it. They had materialized at the mouth of a dead-end alleyway in one of the inner sectors, smoke twisting in the sky. It should have been broad daylight and instead it felt as if they had walked into some place which knew only twilight.

People ran amok in streets, some crying in huddles and others pale, quiet, too shocked to respond. Spock ignored them and pressed on, heading towards the nearest hospital where the wounded were congregating. Besides him the doctor grew solemn and quiet. He could almost sense the man's compassion and desire to help these people. It was only the doctor's loyalty to Jim that stopped the man from stopping where he stood and demanding to be allowed to practice his art.

McCoy looked to him. "What you said about Jim… being alive, you know something I don't?"

His eyes fluttered closed briefly as he remembered the breadth and width of Jim's mind, the way it leapt ahead, all that passion and intellect simmering beneath the surface. The tenuous link that remained between them, the consequence of their minds having coiled together so many previous times, responded when he sought it…

"He lives." He stated without elaboration.

"_That is some trick, Spock…"_

It's not a trick, he whispered silently in his mind as something swelled inside of him and threatened to spill over. Jim was very much alive but in pain, confused and lost. The link flared with recognition at his mental touch and reached for him.

Spock increased his pace. Grousing quietly to himself, the doctor followed.

* * *

Jim slouched over the nearby wall, pushed there in the tide of bodies. Behind him the woman placed a hand on his shoulder, her sweaty soot-covered face concerned. He didn't understand a word she was saying. He opened his mouth to tell her that he was a Star-World-Person, Not-Is-Kijani, and just like before nothing came out except warble noises. Distressed, he grabbed her arm and pointed insistently at the darkened sky, urging her to understand.

Nodding as if she were placating a child, she wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder and guided him towards one of the buildings in the distance, a hospital going by the sign. Jim almost cried out in relief. All the hospitals had communications terminals and they would be running on auxiliary power totally separate from the city's primary power. He would be able to get a message to the _Enterprise_. He had to. Lives were at stake, not just the lives of people on the planet but the two ships in orbit, idle and unaware of what was really happening down here.

Suddenly someone yelled out what sounded like his name and instinctively, Jim looked up. Dread twisted in his stomach as he realized that he had been found and had just given himself away. Ducking, Jim ignored the alarmed shout of the female officer and rushed into the panicked masses, adrenalin pumping through his body. Just as quickly, men sprang into the crowd, yelling and shouting. The crowd dispersed in alarm, not knowing what was going on.

He heard the high-pitched whine too late to hit the ground.

* * *

He threw out his hands as he was thrown unceremoniously down the steps into the cell. Before he could even sit up, the cell door slammed shut, cutting off the only source of light. In his panic, the darkness closed on him rapidly before he fought it, putting all his focus on picturing the bridge – clean white surfaces, bright lights, the faces of the crew. Uhura would be at her station, her hands moving along the dials, relaxed and confident. Chekov would be fiddling with something on that PADD he carried everywhere, bored by the lull. Spock would be bent over his viewer, one hand held casually behind his back.

Jim collapsed back on the ground and closed his eyes, the world tilting on its axis sharply. The cell shuddered as another missile hit off and his stomach trembled in response but it sounded too distant to be dangerous. For the first time since this day's terrible events began, he felt a small sense of hope amidst his frustration. Spock would be looking for him. It was over thirty-hours, and he had been clear that he was to be picked up on time. Spock was a stickler for schedule and the minute he was late the Vulcan would have been onto him like a hound dog. Normally this would annoy him but today, he was counting on it.

_Find me, Spock,_ he mentally urged as if the Vulcan could hear him and respond. It wasn't that far-fetched, in fact there were so many instances where it had seemed to Jim that the Vulcan knew exactly where to look for him, could anticipate him. A sudden urge to gag choked him; Jim rolled onto his side, knees coming up to his ribs as he curled into a fetal position shivering from cold. The dizziness and nausea were getting worse. His body felt numb though, and he couldn't tell if this was a good thing or bad thing. Another boom sounded, the shockwave shaking dust and plaster loose from the ceiling.

_Spock,_ he thought weakly, _we're in trouble now. The Kijani Alliance tricked the whole fucking Federation… there is no Alliance… there is no peace treaty-in-work… they don't care about having the honor of the Enterprise being present… it's all bullshit!_

He had come down to the planet intending to discuss changes to security arrangements at next week's meeting to be heard at the Romenos Central Command. Instead, he had been made aware of a planet-wide conspiracy to steal Starfleet military technology and become the target of an assassination attempt.

The ships would be ambushed, shot out of the sky and stripped until there was nothing left to be found. And when the Federation marshaled the troops to come looking for them, the various Kijani nations would use this fucking fake war of theirs to cover up what they had done. They would put on a good show of blaming each other, and the Federation would let them off – they were making so much progress in achieving planetary peace, couldn't possibly let the investigation of what killed two ships be the cause of another world war.

And they'll be dead, floating at the bottom of the fucking ocean, unable to say a word.

Jim pictured the _Enterprise_, all her gleaming white edges and curves, drifting in space under the impression that she was safe, being suddenly attacked by a planet she had be ordered to guard.

Fear ran cold through his veins and sank into his soul. For the ship, for the innocent caught up in the abominable actions of those few in power, for his crew and all those families still waiting for their loved ones to come home. They were overdue for shore leave on Earth, Jim realized with regret, the last anyone would have seen their family would have been over half a year before. And now it might be all too late…

Jim swallowed – no, not too late, not while his ship was under Spock's command. The Vulcan would do everything he could, exhaust all possibilities, because he believed that if one eliminated the impossible, whatever remained – however improbable – must be the truth.

_Spock_, _you know me dammit, you know that no matter what happened I'd find a way to contact you, so if I'm not then something's wrong and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Find me, Spock, FIND ME! _

There was another explosion, this time closer, shaking the room so badly that he flinched and curled tighter. Though he knew it was impossible, Jim felt like the Vulcan could hear him and would somehow save the world.

* * *

Searching the hospital turned out to be fruitless. There was no sign of Jim even as he and the doctor had walked through every level. Nevertheless he didn't give up. 'You believe in hope now, Spock? Isn't that the illogical notion that all will be well, despite any and all evidence to the contrary?' The doctor had joked without his usual acerbic attitude. Not hope, he had wanted to say, merely… experience; Jim and he had not failed each other before and they would not be starting now.

"Where to?" McCoy asked once they were back out on the streets.

Closing his eyes, he mentally stroked the slender vein linking him to Jim. Putting aside his objections, discomfort and aversion, Spock allowed his mind to reach for Jim's faint presence on the outskirts of his awareness. He discarded his careful shields, feeling a flare of dread each time one disappeared, all painstakingly put in place to prevent _this_ from developing further.

"Well, is he still there, still okay?"

Spock ignored the doctor, almost vibrating beside him in worry and impatience. He took a sharp breath when the link expanded, the connection thickening until it surged through him, alive and aware. His avowal to go no further, to resist the urge to take the final step that would cement this mental connection as a bond, seemed far away. Spock stumbled as everything inside of him leaned towards Jim's self, his hand reaching out to grab at the nearby wall. McCoy called out his name in alarm. No, he had pledged to endure, to resist the allure of bonding. He had promised this would be no more than a brief sharing of thoughts to facilitate the passing of information, this would be–

The urge be sick flew through him, making him want to gag.

"_You cannot know the hunger for unity which can exist in one whose mind, having always been separate and alone, is given the opportunity to experience such a union only to be cut off again."_

The pressure grew as he struggled against his instinct to seize Jim's mind and bind them together. The familiar comfort of Jim's inner space, seemingly endless, filled with stars, sensuality and rawness, called out to him.

Spock stiffened when suddenly the connection flared, pulsing strongly. Impressions came to him: darkness, cold, pain, cold fury, bitterness, fear and then finally hope, desperate willful hope – _Spock, FIND ME!_

He gave a startled gasp as his concentration broke and his attempts to resist failed completely. The presence of Jim crowded his mind until he felt like he was going to fall to the ground in a faint. The doctor grabbed him by the arms, righting him and pushing him against a wall. He felt full, agonized, satisfied and yet not.

Spock opened his eyes to the sight of Doctor McCoy, peering at him with great concern, tricorder out. He pushed the sensor in his face away and stood slowly, his entire body shaking. Control, he swallowed and took a deep trembling breath of the dirty smoke-filled air. It was done, and there was nothing else he could do except make use of it.

The true implication of what had taken place sank in, making him freeze; Jim lingered at the edges of his mind, comfortable, familiar, as if he had always meant to occupy that space.

"Spock, is he...?" The doctor asked worriedly, his eyes wide.

He shook his head. Jim was alive, weakened, in a dark place, and the young captain was furious, terrified, determined – he forced himself to swallow down his nausea and concentrate. Spock braced himself, his mind churning with possible reactions that the human would have to the touch of his mind, unsolicited and invasive. _Jim_, _Jim, where are-?_

_DECEIT, LIES, TREACHERY! _Images and thoughts rushed at Spock leaving him reeling. Even as he struggled to filter and decipher what he was receiving through the bond, he felt a strong sense of urgency as if time was running out.

Spock ignored McCoy's confused shout and ran, following his instincts, the pull of the bond leading him deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine streets of the Romenos capital.

* * *

_to be continued in part 2_


	2. Part 2 of 3

_This part has all the action so I hope the choppiness doesn't put anyone off. Lots of TOS references - see if you can spot them :) enjoy_

* * *

McCoy instinctively ducked as another crude missile whistled shrilly through the sky, sending a shudder of dread down his spine. The impact came, loud and hard, the shockwave pulsing across his skin like an electric shock. Next to him, Spock uncurled and immediately began to run, not even bothering to see if another attack was coming.

"Spock, what-! _Dammit_!" He cursed the Vulcan for his stubbornness and single-mindedness but he followed.

Most humans were as psionic as a lump of coal but there's always been some kind of empathy, a sense of awareness, between Jim and Spock. The Vulcan seemed to instinctively know what was going on in Jim's hard head, where he was, what was wrong. McCoy had suspected something was going on, a little more than the 'destined best buds' thing Jim liked to bandy about, but really had nothing to base his suspicions on until…

"_I would know… if the captain were dead."_

The hesitation wasn't uncertainty, more some misplaced discomfort in divulging that little tidbit; Jim was alive, and the Vulcan knew this without a doubt in his bony body. Evidence pointed to a mental link or – oh _really_ Jim – a bond, the type that usually had a whole lot of other things attached to it, things like marriage and forever. McCoy saw Spock's face the moment before the man lost all sense and took off without a word. He had seen desperation.

Ahead of him, Spock turned sharply down a street, not slowing in the slightest as his eyes fixed upon something distant, all his senses attuned there. McCoy made it a point to bristle over Spock's "Vulcan voodoo" but as he barreled down the alien streets, he swore to never make fun of that again if it would help get Jim back.

Just as suddenly as he had taken off, Spock stopped as the streets opened onto the riverside.

"He is underground," the Vulcan said in a tight voice, looking out from the stone rails.

McCoy silenced his question on how the hell Spock even knew something like that and just went with it. There were stairs to the left leading down to a lower river-level pedestrian walk. And there was – _bingo!_ "There!" He pointed to the large circular metal disc directly below their position at the stone wall, an underground utilities vault lid.

The Vulcan met his eye. "Most likely," he said, before swiftly descending the steps.

McCoy took that as a 'thank you' and hurried after him, cursing those long Vulcan legs as he fumbled for his phaser. Spock pushed the heavy metal lid out of the way and disappeared.

_Down the rabbit hole we go… _

It appeared that they had stumbled upon a secret base of some sort. The place was rigged with utilitarian lights that obvious ran on a different power conduit to the rest of the city. It gave McCoy a bad feeling, in more ways than one – the sooner they found Jim, the better, but it wasn't going to easy. Judging by the intersections they had already passed, it was a pretty big place.

He pulled his head back from the corner he'd been peering around and nodded to Spock that it was clear. Suddenly a wall panel opposite them slid open, revealing a Kijani who stared at them in shock for a moment before opening his mouth to yell. McCoy's stomach sank – so much for the element of surprise. Then he realized he didn't need to worry when a second later, Spock leaped from the wall beside him and did something too fast for him to make out – except that when he finished it, the Kijani was lying on the floor with his head at an odd angle.

"Whatever happened to the plan of catching one alive and plumbing him for info?" He hissed.

The Vulcan's response was an arched brow. They continued on in silence and the next Kijani they run into gets Spock's special – the Vulcan nerve pinch – followed by a quick light meld to find out where Jim was being stashed.

"Well?" He said when Spock finally opened his eyes.

Without answering him, the Vulcan stood, spun around and headed down one of the connecting tunnels at a run. Not even bothering to complain anymore, McCoy laid a hand protectively over his medical kit and ran after him.

* * *

The press of Jim's presence upon his mind was getting stronger and stronger with each dimly lit intersection he passed. It was meant to be distracting but instead he drew strength from it, able to circumvent his emotional upheaval by using it as a focus. He mechanically turned his head left and right scanning the dank corridors for enemy presence, shooting whomever he found. In their surprise, the few Kijani he came across didn't have the time to retaliate before he stunned them cold. Belatedly Spock realized that he was experiencing something only bonded Vulcans enjoyed – the stability of another, able to smooth over any inconsistencies in control.

Behind him the doctor kept pace, his breathing thick and ragged. "Do you know where we're going?"

"This way," he said, and sent another volley of phaser fire down a corridor. The Kijani hit the wall and slid down onto the dirt ground, stunned. In the back of his mind, he felt Jim's strength fading, overtaken by exhaustion, pain and fear. Jim's confused mental anguish began to mount, driven by the circular thought patterns of the negative emotions. It was killing the man's will to live.

Spock paused and reached out with his mind, sending warmth and hope. _Please wait for me, Jim…_

_Spock…_ _is that really you? _

_Vulcans do not lie, Jim…_

The reply was a laugh, edging between delight and delirium. Spock expanded his mental presence but Jim's mind continued to spin out into darkness. He flinched and pulled back. There wasn't much more time before Jim slipped into rushed through his veins as an irresistible force drew him along one of the intersections that sloped downwards until he reached a non-descript door, three down from the end.

_Here…_

* * *

_Enterprise_ was overdue.

Jim sluggishly ran the calculations, the scenarios, again and again, telling himself that this didn't mean anything, someone would come for him any moment now – _Spock, get me the hell out of here!_ He watched, listened, hoping, expecting and when the minutes dragged into hours he felt dread crept up on him. In the dark cocoon he was trapped in, Jim was safe from the bombings above surface but not from his own mind, which struggled to explain the delay and only came up empty.

Were they already attacked? Were they looking for him? The thought of being trapped forever went through his mind along with the faces of his friends, Bones, Uhura, Scotty, Spock, the thought of never touching another hand and…

_Please wait for me, Jim… _The warm familiar presence brushed his mind and though he knew it was only a memory, he held it close and let it comfort him. Spock's hand rested on his face. His arms wrapped around him, and time was standing still. He wasn't afraid. It was so warm, so bright – Spock's mind, filled with so much that he wanted. _Spock… is that really you?_

The reply came, so dry he could wipe his hands on it. _Vulcans do not lie, Jim…_

Yes, that's exactly what Spock would say, Jim thought, caught between laughter and sorrow as the bleakness of his situation began to sink in. The urge to scream and cry passed along with desperation, hope and anger, and left only a terrible coldness. Jim closed his eyes. God, he was so tired…

* * *

Turning the wheel lock until he heard the door unlatch, Spock threw the door open. It was dark, damp and cool inside. In the far corner, Jim's body was curled in on itself protectively. The dim greenish lights behind him cast a strange glow, but there was blood on the dirty floor – he could smell it.

"Oh God! Jim!"

Spock allowed himself to be pushed out of the way, his mind reeling. Doctor McCoy fell to his knees besides their captain and eased the man onto his back. The doctor's hands came away sticky with blood. A boom rocked the tunnels, causing dust, dirt and rocks to fall down upon them. Spock fell against the door frame, shaken by the violence raging above ground. The missile hits were increasing, the rest period between each launch becoming shorter and shorter. The second assault was beginning.

"Doctor McCoy, we must depart immediately." Spock said over the noise, "I shall take the captain. We must get to the surface and beam out."

"Are you crazy!" McCoy shouted, batting futilely at the dust with his scanner in hand, "Jim's a mess! If we move him we don't know- HEY!"

Spock ignored the doctor, picking Jim up under his arm and knees. He made sure that Jim was tucked securely against him before heading back towards the way they had come, leaving the doctor to his coughing and spluttering. He trusted the man to follow. After all Doctor McCoy was a healer and where his patient went, he would follow.

Another explosion rocked the tunnel and Spock stumbled before throwing himself back against a wall to regain his balance, the arm supporting Jim's back curling to cradle his skull. He unwisely chose to look down and regretted immediately when the sight of Jim's wound, half-clotted half-wet, slammed into his visual cortex with an almost physical shock. His knees buckled in response but strength returned as he forced himself to forget and swallow his nausea. Control, he whispered silently, holding onto Jim as if his life depended on it, forcing his leaden legs to continue moving.

Doctor McCoy took out his communicator. "_Enterprise_!" The man shouted, as another missile soared through the smoky sky above them. "_Enterprise_ do you copy!"

Turning at the last corner, Spock's heart sped up at the sight of the ladder leading to the surface. There was water coming in now, splashed in from the river. His boots trudged through the water and mud deftly but carefully, mindful of the precious cargo in his arms.

"_Enterprise_, come in, _Enterprise_!" Doctor McCoy bellowed at the small handheld communicator, his face caked in grit and sweat. "Beam us up dammit! Scotty! Uhura!"

Spock stood underneath the circular opening and stared up, just in time to catch an aircraft twisting through the sky, leaving a trail of smoke, fire and exhaust in its passing. Somewhere in the distance, another explosion sounded, shaking the ground. The muddy waters sloshed around his ankles violently as Doctor McCoy swore quietly and tried the communicator again.

_Spock… is that you?_

The call was weak, so weak that he almost missed it except for the hand which seized the collar of his cloak and pulled. Spock looked down. Jim's eyes blinked at him slowly, almost as if the man had been asleep and was just waking up, uncertain what he was seeing.

_Jim… I am with you._

The sight of Jim's weak smile heartened him. Doctor McCoy cried out in the background and rushed over, neck craning as he tried to catch Jim's attention. But Jim's eyes never left his. Something inside of Spock swelled, and he did not know if it was happiness or terror. Vaguely he noted that McCoy was displeased by his exclusion but he could not bring himself to care.

"What am I – chopped liver?" The doctor grumbled.

_Where else would you be? I knew you'd come for me. _Jim said silently, eyes grazing along the features on his face. The meaning of the enigmatic smile rushed through Spock's consciousness, as words and images, less than a meld but more than a mindlink.

A perfect, beautiful door, one never opened. '_Your answer lies elsewhere, Spock...' _the solemn face of a Kohlinar Master, turning him away, sending him back to the stars where his destiny waited and longed for him. A vast, indifferent Mind – a Voyager incapable of brightness – showed him a mind truly without emotion. Rather than be soothing, it horrified him. And that perfect door remained. His unconscious mind understood all this.

People came and went, adding equations, bringing answers as well as new questions – and one never left, who loved to scramble Spock's equations on purpose, laughing, glorious and so much more, enough that he'd die for this one… _'You are my commanding officer. You are also my friend. I have been and always shall be yours.'_

But he had never said those words. He had given up all aspirations to attain Kohlinar in the aftermath of Vulcan's destruction. Spock realized with a sharp sting that these were a mixture of Jim's impressions of his mind, and the leftovers of Ambassador Spock's mindlink with Jim, faded into unconsciousness until the insertion of his mental imprint through the bond brought them to the surface.

_Promise me… _Jim whispered silently, his panic almost a palatable metallic tint in Spock's mouth. _I promise_, he replied, though he had no idea what he was promising to – Spock gave a grunt of surprise when information shot through his mind:

The unfortunate First Contact between the Kijani people and Starfleet, when an observation vessel had been badly damaged by an experimental missile. The Kijani Alliance, apparently joint in peace efforts, now that the Kijani people's petty squabbles were put in a galactic context. This was the opportunity the common people had been waiting for to throw off the shackles of war and strife. But the Alliance didn't care about the people's agenda, only their own. Using the excuse of peace, they exploited their Federation Protectorate World status, demanded help with peace negotiations. They wanted the best and strongest, and Starfleet wanted to make a good impression upon people who would in years to come fuel Starfleet's ranks with new able-bodied members, especially in the post-Vulcan atmosphere of uncertainty.

But the ships were not here to provide security, to ensure cooperation by threat of force. No, the ships were there to be exploited. There were no peace talks, no treaty to be hammered out. There would be a planetary war, calculated and devastating, laying waste to whole nations – undesirable populations, according to the Alliance – and in the confusion, the ships would be targeted. The crew would be killed, tortured for technical knowledge and disposed neatly while the ships would be stripped for technology. In the aftermath, amidst the death and destruction on the planet itself, Starfleet would write the destruction of the vessels off as collateral – _we must get back to the ship! I need to be on the bridge, Spock, promise me!_

Jim's head lolled back against Spock's shoulder, at the limits of his strength. His heart ached at the sight of Jim so weak, so lifeless but his promise nagged at him.

"Doctor McCoy," Spock said with an evenness that belied his state of turmoil, "have you made contact?"

Before the doctor had a chance to reply, the world dissolved in a flurry of white light.

* * *

_Traumatic Brain Injury – contusions – hmm a blunt force blow, and intercranial pressure …._ Sweat beaded McCoy's forehead as he moved the scanner over Jim's form like a magic wand, eyes flicking between the monitor and his patient's shifting body. _Dammit, no wonder Jim doesn't make any damn sense…._Grabbing a hypospray, he gestured at the nurses to start prepping for surgery and moved to sedate the younger man.

A hard hand around his wrist pulled him up short and jerked him back from the biobed. "I cannot allow you to use sedatives, Doctor, I promised the captain that he would see this through." the Vulcan said, his calm almost pleasant tones totally at odds with the almost punishing squeeze of his hand.

"Well, that's just dandy!" McCoy snapped, having had it up to his head with the Vulcan acting like Jim's personal bodyguard and Power of Attorney. "But I'm a doctor, in fact, on this damn ship, I am THE doctor so if the two of you are finished playing Vulcan mind whispers I'd like to get on with my job!"

Jim called out wordlessly from the biobed and instantly Spock was by the man's side, touching his forearm tentatively. "I made the captain a promise, Doctor," the Vulcan said firmly, "and I shall keep it."

Suddenly, Spock scooped Jim up in his arms and settled him in the wheeled chair that had been used to transport the younger man to Sickbay.

"What are you doing!" He yelled, "Spock, have you gone insane! He's a mess, you pointy-eared bastard, he can't think for himself much less know what he wants! He needs medical attention!"

"I'm sorry, doctor, but our presence is required on the bridge." Giving him a hard look, Spock spun the wheelchair around and headed for the doors. McCoy could hardly believe the nerve. He was shocked that Spock, rule-abiding stick-up-his-ass Spock, was pulling this stunt. Storming over and cutting the Vulcan off, he stood feet apart with his arms held out.

"Over my dead body!" McCoy shouted furiously, "put my patient down, Commander, that is a direct order from your CMO!"

Spock's lips thinned in displeasure. "Doctor, please move out of the way – if we are not upon the bridge within the next five minutes, there will be many more people requiring medical attention and you may not be available to provide it."

He floundered, not exactly sure what the Vulcan was saying. "Is that a threat, Spock?"

"No," the Vulcan said flatly. "That was a warning. Captain Kirk has come across crucial information that could save the lives of millions on the planet, as well as prevent an attack upon the _Prahran_ and _Enterprise_ that is due to commence any moment now. I do not have time nor patience to explain the particulars, Doctor McCoy, please kindly remove yourself from my path."

Staring down Spock's dark heated gaze, he found his anger dispersing quickly until all he was left with was a raw nervousness and uneasy conclusions. Vulcans didn't lie about things like this – well, they were reputed to not lie at all – and Spock would sooner suffer stab wounds and throw himself in front of a vicious beast for mauling than allow Jim to go into danger. Did he trust the Vulcan? Yes, hell yes, with his goddamn life, even though he made it his single-minded mission to get on Spock's nerves. Did he like this? No, not at all – Jim had come into Sickbay before with more serious injuries than this, but this TBI had been left untreated for so long that it was starting to become seriously worrisome.

McCoy slowly stepped to the side.

"Thank you," the Vulcan said dryly.

"You get fifteen minutes on the bridge, and I'm coming with you."

Jim reached behind him and grabbed Spock's hand. The Vulcan glanced down, met Jim's eyes in silence before looking up, his eyes ablaze.

"Ten, doctor, we shall only need ten."

* * *

Hikaru Sulu jumped to his feet in shock when the turbolift unexpectedly opened and Mr. Spock stepped out, pushing the captain onto the bridge in a wheeled chair. Everyone tried not to stare but it was difficult, especially when Doctor McCoy stepped in after the two men, muttering viciously under his breath with his tricorder out and scanning. The Vulcan was still in his non-descript plain grey clothes for his trip planetside, but even with his hair slightly askew, no uniform and grim on his face, the man's presence was still calm and commanding. His gaze whipped across the bridge and finally settled on him.

"You're relieved, Lieutenant."

Sulu stepped back from the captain's chair and headed for the helm, eyes lingering on the captain's battered form. "Aye sir."

Mr. Spock picked the captain up in his arms easily and, descending the short step to the lower bridge, gently deposited Captain Kirk in the central chair. Sulu's eyes widened.

Everyone had been patched into the inship comm. system when the announcement went through that the captain had beamed safety aboard. At the time, cheers had gone up around the ship, with everyone on the bridge joining in the elation. No one expected to see the captain so soon, of course - the man was injured, or so the urgent call from Transporter Room 2 to Sickbay implied.

Kirk was paler than usual and trembling with a dark clotted head wound on the left side of his head that hurt to look at. Sulu would have questioned if the man should be here or even knew where he was except the captain was very much alert in the chair, back straight, hands gripping the armrests. The man looked to Mr. Spock and then the viewscreen.

"Open hailing frequencies. All channels."

Uhura glanced over at him. Sulu shrugged, just as confused.

Her hand moved across her console. "Hailing frequencies open, all channels, sir…"

"This is Commander Spock of the _USS Enterprise_. I hereby order the immediate ceasefire of hostilities to all Kijani military forces. To each Central Command of the Alliance nations, I ask respectfully for a response within the next taksec." The Vulcan turned to him and Chekov. "Lieutenant, raise shields and power weapons. Ensign, inform me when time is up."

Exchanging troubled looks with Chekov, the helmsman followed the orders with a slight tremor in his hand. Many questions went through his mind, but Sulu decided to reserve his judgment and wait for an explanation. "Shields raised and weapons system online, sir."

"What the blimey -? Sulu, what's happening out there!" The sound of their Chief Engineer blasted from the comm. on the arm of the captain's chair.

Mr. Spock hit the button to open the channel. "Mr. Scott, is there a problem?"

"Commander?"

"Yes, Mr. Scott, were you expecting someone else?" The Vulcan remarked with his characteristic dryness.

"Err… no, sir – but you mind telling me why we've got our shields raised and weapons powered up? Raring for a fight are we?" Scotty asked with his typical cheerfulness.

"That remains to be seen." Mr. Spock answered cryptically.

"Right... keep me posted then, Engineering out."

"One taksec has been reached, Commander." Chekov said quietly.

Sulu swallowed and looked to their captain, begging the man to say or do something, give them all some clue as to what this was about. Their orders had been to learn everything they could about what had set off the powder keg that was the shaky Kijani Five Alliance, and keep their noses out of what was clearly non-Federation business. The last he had heard, those were still their standing orders – so what the hell was Mr. Spock doing?

* * *

Spock stiffened at the first touch of Jim's hand upon his sleeve. He glanced at the man, and felt the stirrings of Jim's mind reaching towards him. The earnestness and compassion behind Jim's thoughts were almost painful to experience in conjunction to his own fury.

_Don't hurt them, Spock…_

Captain, _they violated their accord as a Federation Protectorate knowingly – they kidnapped you and attempted to cover up your disappearance. They were willing to kill you to achieve their ends. _This_ is a reasonable response, Jim…_

_Just the Five, Spock… there's innocent people down there, don't forget that. Their nations have fought wars for generations, they're suspicious of everything… that kind of lifestyle, that way of thinking – it's hard to leave behind, Spock…_

He took slowly took a deep breath and exhaled it. He knew what Jim was doing – Jim wanted to offer this treacherous Alliance diplomacy. Deceit and manipulation were not the Vulcan way, and indeed, every time Spock encountered these situations, he found it always utterly repulsive. However he did concede that allowances had to be made – the Kijani were haunted by their warlike past, and their actions would accordingly reflect this experience.

_Don't do this, Spock – you are a Vulcan, bred for peace…_

"Lieutenant Sulu, target all active missile launch sites on the planet and fire one phaser pulse at half-power."

"Aye, sir."

There was silence on the bridge as the phaser beam lashed again and again in quick bright red bursts across the empty vacuum and struck various points on the planet, clouds of smoke and smog ripped out its path. The ship's engines thrummed higher as they maneuvered under the planet's south pole and began a sequence of phaser fire on the other side.

"Sir, Lidioch and Thonia have recalled their fighters." Chekov reported from his station, his accent thickening in his nervousness.

"They have issued an immediate ceasefire but want to know what's going on." Uhura spun from her station. "Response, sir?"

Those two nations were not among the Five. "Inform them that we wish them no harm, but we have come across information regarding their current conflict that we wish them to review."

"The other nations are following, Commander! Koina, Zatynor, Protaria, Rashur, Tieran…"

Lieutenant Hawkins raised his hand and gave him a hopeful look. Spock had been attempting to break the man from this childish habit for months and yet the man persisted. "Yes Lieutenant?"

"We're receiving a hail from _USS Prahran_, sir. It's Ambassador Morales, she's really angry and wants to know what the, err, hell do you think doing – that's a direct quote, sir." The man turned back to his station when it shrilled: Morales. Again. From the expression on Hawkins' face, it wasn't a message he would enjoy conveying. "She's saying she's getting a shuttle over, and wants to see you, sir – about why you just disabled all the weapons platforms when there are direct orders for us not to interfere."

"Tell the Ambassador that Captain Kirk has been recovered. It appears that he was deliberately kidnapped and held prisoner, to prevent him from revealing that this war has been deliberately incited by the Kijani Five Alliance. They sought to use the non-interference policy of Starfleet in the affairs of non-member worlds to launch a surprise attack upon the _USS Enterprise_ and _Prahran_. Their intentions are to obtain Federation weapons technology to bolster their own development at the detriment of non-Alliance nations and to cover up their actions in the confusion of war."

The lieutenant's hands flew across the keys. When the reply came, it was lengthy and caused him to wince several times. "Sir, she says you still can't just fire like that, and that you're a, um, stupid idiot – direct quote, sir – and due to your idiotic actions, negotiations have been put back possibly for years and, grey hairs, sir, she wants you to know that her grey hairs are all your fault."

Spock arched an eyebrow. Ambassador Morales was a very passionate and formidable woman, which made her very apt in dealing with difficult people – partly because she herself could be difficult – and from this response, he knew that she was shocked by the information and would support him. Rather like Doctor McCoy in this matter, she enjoyed deliberate provocation and showed her affections in this manner.

"And she says… um, just because Vulcans don't lie, doesn't mean she should just believe you."

"If she requires proof, then she must speak to the Romenos Central Command, they hold the evidence that verifies Captain Kirk's statement. I have halted the war and thus, have done my part – I leave the rest to her judgment."

"Commander, we're being hailed Rashur Central Command."

Beside him, Jim slowly climbed to his feet, hand grasping at his arm for support against his lack of balance. Doctor McCoy made a desperate noise and shot them a worried look, stepped forward as if he meant to rush over but forced himself still at the last moment. Hawkins' console shrilled again. Jim rolled his eyes and glanced at him, amusement flashing quickly across his strained face.

"Jim, you should not be standing." He murmured under his breath.

_We do this together Spock_, Jim's eyes pleaded him – _I want them to see me…_

"Very well," he conceded, sensing how important this was to Jim – to face his enemy so to speak, and feel the satisfaction that they had not succeeded in cowing him.

"Sir, she demands to know how the hell –"

"Lieutenant Hawkins!"

"…Sir?"

"Put her on hold!" He nodded to Uhura, and wiped all thoughts of the Ambassador from his mind.

There was a flicker on the main viewscreen then Chairman Uane glared at them from across his desk, his composure obviously ruffled from the dark bruised blush over his face. "I demand that you explain yourself–!" The man bellowed, before his eyes took in the presence of Jim at his side and widened in shock. The hand around Spock's arm tightened, and surreptitiously, he shifted his arm a little behind him so the chairman would not see how hard Jim was holding on. Spock had no doubt that the chairman would attempt to hide their involvement in this ugly matter.

"Captain Kirk," Chairman Uane said, his expression schooling itself to one of cool disapproval, tinged with disappointment. "Why has your Starfleet interfered in this matter of war? This is not your business."

Spock sensed the righteous anger boiling underneath the surface of Jim's skin, saw into the depth of the agony that Jim had suffered, knowing all he did and being powerless to do anything as he was kept in that dark cell for hours that dragged onto eternity. Jim would have driven himself mad with desperation and despair long before his body failed him. They had used him, his trust, his compassion, his faith in people and working through difficulties – and most of all they'd abused his hope. He had the chance to turn this mission down but he accepted the dispatching with hopes of making a real difference. He didn't just want to be the captain who was good at making war. Spock felt Jim's hurts as if they were his own and once again he was shocked by the capacity of the man to wrestle with his emotions.

He turned to face the screen. "Chairman Uane, by article 59 as recorded in the Federation Protectorate World Policy and Procedure, the Kijani homeworld is hereby released from its status, and stripped of all the privileges there of. Ambassador Morales will contact you within the day, and –"

"SIR! Missiles are being launched from the surface!" Chekov shouted.

Mere seconds later, the ship rocked from explosions upon its shields.

"Minimum damage, shields holding."

A warning shot. Though Kijani technological development was not superior to that of the Federation, the entire planet was geared for war and five nations all targeting them could have devastating consequences. Chairman Uane's face did not stay. The connection was replaced another, the background displaying the interiors of a military facility. It was the face of a man in a Rashur commander's uniform.

"Federation," barked this young commander, "you trespass in our space! You disabled our weapons platforms! You mock your treaty and your directives-but you will not be unpunished! The Chairman is prepared to be merciful. Lower your shields, surrender your ship, and we will spare your lives."

"I shall consider it," Spock said coolly and gestured to Uhura.

The screen went blank. He stared contemptuously at the dark space where the Kijani commander's face had been. These were the people that Jim wanted to show diplomacy to… Spock hardened his resolve. "Lieutenant Sulu, target all–"

Jim's hand gripped his arm tightly. _Spock, don't make this worse than it is. We'll make them pay but not like this – they killed millions of their own people, Spock, to get their hands on technology. This won't hurt them because they don't care – they have bunkers to hide in._

He hesitated. Jim was correct. "Belay that order."

"Aye, sir…"

"Lieutenant Hawkins, send recordings of my conversation with Chairman Uane and the Rashur commander through to Ambassador Morales." He nodded to Uhura gravely. "Inform sector command of the situation and advise that _Enterprise_ recommends immediate cessation of diplomatic relations with the Kijani."

Jim sat down heavily and cast him a warm look. Almost immediately Doctor McCoy rushed over and began to scan the injured man. In his mind, Spock was already planning the report to HQ that would result in special conditional stipulations upon Kijan's entrance into the Federation. If any of the governments wanted access to technology and weapons, they would be disappointed – he would ensure that.

"Lieutenant Sulu, you have the con." Spock returned the helmsman's nod and turned to face the Chief Surgeon. "Doctor McCoy, I return the captain to your care."

"About damn time!" Doctor McCoy snapped with typical melodrama. "Now maybe someone-" the man fixed him with a particularly heated glare, "-would like to help me get the captain to Sickbay and let me do my goddamn job!"

"No one is stopping you, doctor." He replied, and carried Jim to the wheeled chair in preparation for returning to Sickbay, ignoring the doctor's silent open-mouthed outrage. Immediately, the tension on the bridge eased and several crewmembers even broke out in smiles.

Jim grinned up at him tiredly and mentally chuckled at his deliberate provocation. To everyone else, the Vulcan seemed oblivious.

* * *

_to be concluded in part 3_

_which is the reflective, slow post-Sickbay part :)_

_and horray I am finally over my beta reader shortage_


	3. Part 3 of 3

_The last part - yay! this part took a really long time cos it was significantly different from the other parts and I had to work through the difficulty of conveying properly Spock's alien POV on relationships and how they're supposed to go._

_Resources - Spock's World, Vulcan's Forge, Vulcan Academy Murders, Triangle, The Search for Spock (novelization)  
_

_ITALICS - used for anything that occurs mentally, either a flashback memory or a thought_

* * *

Used to cleaning open wounds and grafting skin cloned from a patient's own cells during the pounding and shaking that a starship underwent on a weekly basis, Leonard McCoy was good at keeping focused on the job. With single-minded annoyance, he usually just shut the danger out of his thoughts by blaming the whole situation on Jim and promising himself to ream the man out later. It wasn't that easy to ignore Spock. Vigilance was one thing, but this was incessant and getting on his nerves.

"Will you stop that?" He groaned when Spock wandered back within touching range, hands behind his back as if he was just taking a stroll – in circles around Jim's bed! "You're making me dizzy, dammit."

Spock stopped then where he was, damn literal Vulcan that he was, right at McCoy's shoulder. It was a good thing that he was finished with Jim because that honestly would have sent him over the deep end. Fed up, he seized the Vulcan by the arm and dragged the man into his office.

"How the hell did you do that?" He barked. The Vulcan straightened his dirty sleeve and met his gaze stiffly. "And don't try and tell me that was a mind-meld – that _wasn't_ a mind-meld! You didn't have to touch him to find him. What happened?"

There was an edge of nervousness in the way that Spock glanced away. McCoy tensed, reading into that look as trouble, big trouble.

"Leonard," Spock said quietly, the use of his name cluing him in the fact that what was about to be said was in confidence and should be kept that way, "even before today, Jim's natural mental shielding was eroded over time. Through contact with me, one of the consequences has been the development of an unintentional link between us. Since it has come to my awareness, I have tried to resist mental contact of any sort with him, but even then he has reached me spontaneously. Unless I shield, I am aware of him though it is very faint."

He stared at the Vulcan incredulously. "And you thought it was a good idea to be keeping this from me? God, Spock, this is–" Immediately McCoy wished he had kept his mouth shut when he saw the look on Spock's face. "So… today…?"

Spock shook his head slowly and straightened, as if preparing himself for an assault. McCoy had rarely ever seen the man so wretched, so uprooted – and the look in his eyes… it was as if Spock had been blessed and cursed all within a day. "I initiated a full mating bond. With the intention to stop it before it progressed too far – I'm afraid… I miscalculated."

The Vulcan turned away, hands locked behind his back and head bowed. McCoy didn't need to see his face to know that Spock was troubled. The heavy emotions were almost tangible in the enclosed space of his personal office.

"Well, that explains a lot." He said roughly.

It explained _everything_. It explained why last month Spock had offered up his own psychic life-force at the expense of his precious Vulcan control to bring Jim back from the brink. Why Jim had returned the favor when they got into a phaser fight, running into a phaser bolt meant for the Vulcan.

"I'm glad I didn't have to wrangle it outta ya… I know that Vulcans don't tell outsider this kind of stuff. So… thanks. There are… consequences to this sort of thing, you know, and I want the best for Jim and –"

The Vulcan shot him an almost savage look. "And you believe that I do not! Jim is my captain and my friend. I am fully aware, Doctor McCoy, of the _consequences_!"

McCoy held his breath as the Vulcan turned away, shocked that the man's control was so tenuous. He had seen Spock in such a state before but – _Jim had always been around to deal with him._ It made sense, he supposed: Vulcans were very strict regarding the use of their psionic abilities, as well as very particular about their privacy. A deep non-consensual mental contact was an absolute no-no in their strict law-abiding society. And adding into that mix, the close relationship the men shared ….

He took in the stiff hunch of Spock's shoulders, the pensive quality of his profile, the quick harsh breaths and took a wild guess at what had the man all worked up.

"You don't have to worry about HQ. I'm not going to report you, Spock. I think we both know that you didn't mean for this to happen – Jim's alive because of you, don't forget that. I certainly haven't, and he's not going to either." As a doctor he knew how close that Jim had gotten to that precipice, so he was certainly grateful to Spock. But this bonding-for-life thing… it made him uneasy, in fact it seemed downright horrific. Suddenly having someone invade one's inner being like that! Frankly, he didn't know how Jim did it, all those mind-melds and what not. "I know there's a way to dissolve a bond… but I've heard it's not pleasant and doesn't always work out. I think it's a possibility–"

"I will not." The Vulcan's tone was curt. "The law is quite clear on this matter."

McCoy blinked as he realized what Spock really meant was that _Vulcan_ law was clear on this matter. All Vulcans were married young, it was practically a social institution. The rule of thumb was: a short courtship, the marriage to take place within days of meeting, then death till you part. On the majority, this worked. But as far as he knew, and he knew a damn lot about Jim's life, there was nothing, _absolutely_ nothing, that said that Jim would be open _this_.

"That's not even logical!" McCoy glared, "That's _Vulcan_ law, Spock, _Vulcan_ law, and in case you hadn't noticed, Jim is _not_ Vulcan! Look, you did this to save his life not get hitched, so just get the damn thing annulled, cut, broken, whatever, and –"

"Doctor," the Vulcan met him with a hard look, "you speak as if Jim is an unwanted burden that I must bear."

McCoy stilled.

"Well… isn't the bond… I mean, it's for life, Spock and…" He narrowed his eyes at the man but Spock didn't look away, his gaze almost defiant. A voice inside of him crowed with glee that finally, _finally_ the pointy-eared bastard admitted to being sweet on someone, but another part of him was reeling.

Spock looked away, solemn. "As the non-telepathic party in this binding, Jim shall be more adversely affected by the severing. I do not wish that upon him…"

"I see..." He said tiredly and ran a hand over his weary eyes. "Lemme be honest, Spock. If you're doing this because it's the Vulcan way or whatever, fine. Humans on the other hand prefer to be cared for, for there to be love, demonstrations of how they'd be treated in a relationship before even considering–"

Spock jerked up sharply and spun to face him. "Doctor, I would cherish my mate!"

"I'm not saying you won't, I'm just _saying_…" Honestly McCoy didn't know what he was saying anymore. Jim wasn't the rash young man he'd met on the shuttle but he wasn't exactly Mr. Right. "Look, Jim may not be all that open to this, is what I'm saying – so don't be… _upset_ or anything, and um, just – there has to be a way out of this thing, right?"

"Yes, however–"

"Yes – adverse effects – I heard you, Spock. But you _must_ give Jim the choice."

"That had always been my intention."

Many expressions, more than the doctor had ever seen or thought Spock capable of, smoothed across those patrician features within a micro-second. They unfolded so quickly that if he'd blinked he would have missed the show or thought himself dreaming. They stared at one another and reached a silent understanding. McCoy looked away uncomfortably, fighting the urge to fling a good insult. "Well, at least someone else gives a damn about him I guess, even if it has to be you."

He busied himself with the open kit on his table and pulled out a hypospray. "You're going to get a shower, takes off these ridiculous clothes and rest, meditate or whatever it is you Vulcans do. I'm going to send M'Benga around to have a look at you in a little while."

"Doctor, I am uninjured." The Vulcan's voice had a distinctly dry note in it, and if it trembled slightly that was ignored.

"Well, that wasn't a suggestion." He snapped, grateful to be back on familiar territory.

The Vulcan gave a solemn nod. McCoy wanted to reach out and reassure Spock that it was going to be okay, that Jim would forgive him for this terrible thing he thinks he's done, that he has seen the two of them interacting, the light in Jim's eyes. He didn't though. It wouldn't be accepted anyway.

"It'll be a few days until I'll be ready to release him." He said gruffly and attached himself to an arm to give Spock that shot. "When he wakes up, Spock, you talk to him, you hear? I know Jim, and he's gonna need some reassurance that this bond thing hasn't screwed things up."

There was a glance of surprise before the Vulcan went back to brooding. When he finally spoke, the words were so low that they were almost a whisper, and it was only by leaning forward that McCoy heard anything at all. "Thank you, doctor, I shall… though I suspect that I'm ill-suited to the task."

He almost felt sorry for Spock. _Almost_.

"You'll think of something. God knows you've had enough practice over the years running around behind him. Do what you always do with him, Spock." Against his own wishes, a note of affection crept into his voice. "Just, be yourself."

The Vulcan gave a grateful look that was gone so quickly McCoy suspected it was his own overwrought imagination and moved to leave.

"And one last thing, don't you dare run away."

Spock turned from the door. "I assure you, doctor, it would be quite impossible."

* * *

After cleansing himself thoroughly with the decon sonics, he had been examined by Doctor M'Benga who recommended rest. It had been in Spock's mind to protest, but he glimpsed the determination on Doctor McCoy's face and decided that a respite would indeed be welcomed. It had been only been a short twenty hours since he last meditated but it felt much longer.

Spock had never been so aware of his own pulse, throbbing like a thunderstorm through his arms and legs as he stood at the foot of his captain's bed. The bond wasn't planned but he couldn't deny that he found Jim's mind uniquely compatible, that they were each other's defender, advocate and that this bond was _logical_ in the most wonderful way. His fingers itched to reach out and snatch up a hand, cradle it between his palms and finally relax the shields that he built during his association with Humans, to be with Jim as his Vulcan nature yearned. He forced himself to look away. Even in unconsciousness, Jim's presence stayed with him, a safeguard and a promise.

"_You cannot know the hunger for unity which can exist in one whose mind, having always been separate and alone, is given the opportunity to experience such a union only to be cut off again…"_ The warning that his father had given him, which had seemed somewhat cryptic in his youth, was now utterly clear.

Perhaps it was the lack of privacy, the unfamiliarity of the surroundings or the presence of Jim, but meditation eluded him. After fruitless attempts over a long agonizing hour, he gave up. He attempted to fall asleep. Normally it was usually only a simple matter of adjusting his bio-rhythm accordingly yet he could not seem to do that for himself tonight. The disarray of his mind, desperately desirous of pulling on the bond while his will forcibly avoided it, wearied him.

In the next bed, the other man sighed a little in discomfort and shifted onto his side, rustling the sheets. Even though the shields he felt it, the unease rolling of Jim, the torment of his psyche. Something twisted in Spock's solar plexus.

"_I cannot explain to you how your mother and I chose one another, except it was mutual. One day, Spock, when you chose your own life's mate, you will understand…"_

"_You do not intend to arrange another marriage for me?"_

No, his father had left him to make his own choice. Slowly he got up and went to Jim's side. He looked down on Jim's peacefully sleeping face, overcome by a fierce protectiveness.

* * *

Vaguely as if he was very far away, he was aware of a steady strength reaching for him and lifting him from the dark place he was in. Jim relaxed, recognizing the presence – Spock, just Spock, he thought calmly – he was perfectly safe with the Vulcan. A deeper torment eased in him, all the stresses of the day's events slowly sapped of their sharpness until they became mere memories. He didn't understand all that was happening but he accepted it and fell into Spock's lulling presence.

This was nothing like the mind-meld he had first experience with the elder Spock, nothing like the rush of memories, information, overwhelming agony of grief, walking away from love, the rigors of duty, the impression of all those years lived, the weight of one hundred and fifty years. It wasn't even comparable to the melds he'd had with Spock to share information in the line of duty. Jim sighed in his semi-lucid state, feeling his muscles relax further. There was gentleness in the touch of Spock's mind, an almost seductive-appeal and giving in seemed the most natural thing in the world.

For those seconds he was cradled in Spock's strength, he saw the mind behind the expressionless face. Jim saw things that he was certain that he wasn't meant to see. Those times when Spock put a hand on his shoulder in what he wanted to be a comforting gesture, the doubt the Vulcan felt in those moments – for what did a Vulcan know of comfort – but he tried anyway, for Jim. _For me… why?_ The ferociousness of the Vulcan's loyalty, something he couldn't find words for –

_Tzaled…_ it came to him in a flash. Spock took personal responsibility for his well-being, and he could fight it, struggle, make it difficult but Spock would continue to protect him, care for him even if Jim rejected him. Spock was _his_ – to command, to lean upon and hide within. _Oh_, he murmured wordlessly. The presence eased until it withdrew from the layers and levels of his consciousness and while it felt like a great weight had been lifted, it left him feeling bereft of something that he had no word for.

Jim reached up eyes still closed and gently touched Spock's cheek. A hand covered his, inhumanly hot, and slowly laid his hand back on his own chest. He made a wordless plea. _Rest_, came the mental command, resonating through his entire being.

He obeyed and easily drifted into a deep sleep.

* * *

"…No, Commander Spock, I have no doubts at all." the admiral said unhappily. "I accept your recommendation. Effective immediately, diplomatic relations with Kijani will be put on hold until further notice. For permanent sanctions to be brought in, well…Command won't accept this on telepathic testimony. You know that."

"I understand, Admiral."

The woman sighed and shot him a wry smile, relaxing back in her chair. "In any case this isn't your problem anymore. New orders are in: the _Enterprise _is to head for Earth at all deliberate speed, for some well-deserved shore leave. Good work, Commander."

"Thank you, Admiral. The crew shall be pleased."

"I'm sure they will be – the _Enterprise_ is long overdue for leave, Mister Spock, I think we can both agree that the _Enterprise_ is in high demand these days.'

Next to him, Doctor McCoy snorted quietly and grumbled, "A little too much if you ask me, ma'am."

The admiral gave the CMO a warm smile. "I've read your report, Doctor – you people all need a holiday, which is why we're giving it to you. Have fun, that's an order, barring of course the end of the world in which case, you're out of luck."

"Actually I wouldn't be surprised." The doctor muttered under his breath, heard only by Spock.

"Gentlemen, needless to say I am required to be elsewhere very soon. Please give my regards to Captain Kirk." With a nod and another smile, the admiral's image winked out of existence.

* * *

Cheers had gone up around the ship as Lieutenant Sulu turned the _Enterprise_ around and headed at Warp 8 to Earth. Spock put Uhura in charge of shore leave arrangements, and purposefully ignored her dark gaze boring into his back as he avoided the captain's chair, occupying himself with his duties. The last time they had returned to Earth was over a year ago and even he had to admit that he was looking forward having some personal time.

"_I hate leave."_

"_Jim, I do not understand – you just stated quite clearly–"_

"_I know I KNOW – but that doesn't mean I like the process! I already feel a headache coming on – it's going to be a long night, trust me, Spock: shuttles stacked up, people at the wrong airlocks, everybody complaining. You'll see."_

Despite his desire to return to Sickbay, Spock did not shirk from his duties and forced himself to put Jim out of mind. As acting captain, he was responsible for finalizing the ship's schedule, painstakingly going through each item. He met with department heads, checked inventories, and authorized the usual overwhelming number of vouchers, requests and invoices that were typically Jim's responsibility.

"_You're good at this… careful, Spock, I might think you're after my job."_

"_For the record, I do not wish to command, and will never seek it."_

"_But you would do it superbly, Commander."_

"_Of course, Captain. The chair however, is yours."_

Within thirty-six hours they would be at Space Dock, and the ship would be handed over into the care of dock engineering crews and Starfleet Operations. Spock intended the transfer to occur without incident. With this goal in mind, he worked through the night and into the next day until finally, Doctor McCoy threatened him with enforced rest unless he took the next two shifts off.

* * *

It was very late evening by shipboard time when Spock left his room and walked down Deck Five's empty corridor, deliberately rushing past the doors of the captain's cabin. The lift opened, and still deep in thought he stepped in, hitting the button that would take him to the observation deck. It was on the leading edge of the disk hull with a real view not screens, floor-to-ceiling portals that gave the illusion of what Sulu called 'the twenty-third century equivalent of a ship's prow.'

It took time to explore an entire starship. There eleven decks in the primary hull of the Enterprise, twelve in the secondary, with corridors stretching from a 200 standard meters on certain decks and corridors that went for at maximum three point five kilometers on other decks. Jim often referred to the starship as a small town. To cover the entire Enterprise by foot would require at least two hundred hours, allowing for moments to stop and examine one's surroundings.

When Jim and he had first taken command of the vessel, they had taken this tour. Every night, for three entire Earth months, they met unfailingly as the ship travelled peacefully between non-populated star systems on the edge of mapped space. By the time they had finished exploring, it seemed that they had known one another for a very long time, effortlessly comfortable in one another's company. Was that when it had started, he mused, or was it the first time their minds had locked together in a single purpose?

The turbolift finally drew to a stop, the doors opening to the grand open views of the observation deck. Thankful that it was empty, Spock found a dark corner from where to watch the starry landscape of _otherspace_ as the ship tore through the galaxy on high warp and considered how his life had changed. He had come to Starfleet, to escape his status as a half-caste, and found a place where he was welcome. He had no friends, but now he had the respect of an entire crew whom depended upon him, the affection of many that he might be proud to call friend. He also had Jim.

"_I wish I could be a small fly on the wall when you have your talk with Komack."_

"_Why would you desire to be a fly? And specifically a small one?"_

_Jim laughed. "You know perfectly well what I mean."_

"More often that I used to…" Spock murmured quietly, quoting himself from memory. Something stirred within him and penetrated the mental shield he carefully put in place upon leaving Sickbay. He sensed Jim rousing. The captain was confused, but relaxed and free of pain. He exhaled in relief.

There was a vibration under his feet before the ship gave a small lurch and the view changed dramatically, plunging the observation deck into almost complete darkness. Stars winked at him from an impressive expanse of darkness. The engines had dropped to sub-light. They were at the Sol system.

There was no sign of Charon or Pluto and Neptune was a mere light blue crescent to the starboard. It was strikingly beautiful but Spock saw nothing, distracted by Jim's unintentional broadcasting. The other man was searching for him with a gentle probing curiosity and a desire for his company. He roughly quelled the urge to call out through the bond and waited painfully for Jim find him. Neptune drew closer suffusing the observation deck in a blue glow.

The turbolift doors opened with a swish, admitting Jim who stepped out into the room, his eyes fixed for a moment on the observation windows in awe before he turned unerringly to face Spock. Even though he was aware that Jim was able to tap into the carrier-wave between them though he was mindblind, it still surprised him. Spock quickly stood, and for an instant, felt a wave of affection so deep it was worse than pain. It was clear all of a sudden to him that their interactions had always been couched carefully in terms of friendship, innocent duty. Indeed he had not allowed himself to notice the growing attachment that had developed; the way they could communicate with simply a look, the intimate manner which they treated each other. Spock tensed as the other man opened his mouth to speak.

"Spock, you have any idea what's going on with Bones?" Jim graced him with an easy smile, as if they had been conversing for hours. "He keeps giving me these looks and watching me like a hawk every time I rub my head –it's not like I didn't just have brain surgery but still…"

"I do not presume to understand any of Doctor McCoy's actions." Spock stated coolly. Jim laughed and the sound, previously pleasant, seemed now so utterly provocative that he wondered how he could have missed this. "Are you well, Captain?"

"Yes, Commander, I'm fine." Jim gave him a crooked grin, throwing his hands out to his sides in a familiar casual gesture. "Report?"

Of course, ship's business came first.

"In your absence, I filed a full report with Sector Command, and recommended a retraction of provisionary Federation Protectorate World status to Kijani. Ambassador Morales remains in charge of diplomatic contact with the planet. The _Enterprise_ received new orders – shore leave, on Earth – and our rendezvous with the _Swiftfire_ and _Rosencrypt_ occurred without incident. All transfer passengers are aboard and will disembark upon our arrival at Space Dock."

"We're ready to go then?"

Spock gave his captain a long look as was their pattern feeling an unexpected burst of satisfaction at the exchange. Jim broke out in a chuckle, "Dumb question, right?"

Indeed, he wanted to say, but instead he simply raised an eyebrow. It invoked the same response: Jim beamed at him, eyes aglow with pleasure and a deep trust in his abilities that Spock did not know how he managed to inspire but was glad for. Jim's smile gentled.

"Thanks, Spock. You saved the day, and me, _again_. You're making a habit of it."

Many things tumbled through his mind, things that he would have desired to say – but Spock controlled the urges and chose to wait, his anticipation honing his desire further until it was a sharp ache. "If you will desist in your habit, Jim, and I will seek to control mine."

Jim laughed as he walked to the window and touched the surface of the transparent aluminum almost reverently, leaning upon hand rails. Spock followed and stood with him in content silence. Saturn slipped past them, a discus thrown in a large arch; a small prick of light on the starboard side, growing larger until it filled up the bottom half of the windows then fell away beneath the ship, sinking into the darkness. It was a startling sight but he paid no heed, his attentions absorbed by the sight of Jim whole and well.

"Spock, tell me, down on the planet, how _did_ you find me?" Jim asked suddenly, giving him a sideways look. Their gazes clashed. The warm blue eyes quickly glanced away almost startled and then back again, a challenging glint in their depths.

Automatically his mind went into overdrive, striving to find some adequate explanation, an excuse. But just as sharply he jerked out of his meanderings; Jim was not some opponent who needed to be manipulated! "Our mind-melds had an unforeseen effect, Jim – a light mental connection was forged between us. I did not know about it till recently, otherwise I would have informed you – at first I was not even aware of its existence as the possibility of this occurring had been less than point seven percent. I deepened the connection to form a lifebond, which enabled me to locate you."

For a long tense moment there was silence. Jim broke it with a soft murmur, "That simple, huh?"

His head snapped up a retort on his lips, as always Jim was making light of things but Jim was not to make light of this – he did not make this decision lightly or frivolously! But whatever he meant to say was lost when he saw that Jim was still looking at him.

"I remember. I thought I was hallucinating, because you were there with me – I was thinking, _man_ I've gone off the deep end." Jim's eyes softened, "But you really were there weren't you?"

Did Jim remember what had passed between them in those moments underground, as the world shook around them? When all Spock had been aware of was his captain, his friend, his heart racing at the possibility that he should lose him. He met Jim's gaze with his own steady regard, what might be considered tenderness but not the type that a human may understand.

"So, what happens now?"

_Now we will be drawn together when the Time comes..._ "There's usually a ceremony... where the bond is verified by a mind adept. But," Spock tensed, "I am aware that we come from different cultures. While I am obligated under custom and law by the matter, you are not… especially considering the circumstances. If you wish it, there is a way it can be removed, though I must warn you, it is not a…precise matter, there are side effects... but I will honor your decision in this matter."

_Your life was in danger – there was no choice…not for me…_

Jim went very still and deliberately turned away to watch the stars, his eyes flicking to catch Jupiter – a mere dot on the port side. Spock watched him thinking, his own state of mind wavering between anticipation and dread.

Finally Jim smiled with corner of his lips, contrite, slightly self-deprecating but somehow lighthearted. "Sorry for all the drama, as usual. Next time it'll be better."

The words, the manner of Jim's deliver of what should have been a grave matter incited another wave of affection. _Of course, Captain, next time…_ the words were on the tip of his tongue, a touch of familiar teasing along with the usual reproach and understanding of a dear close friendship, but he found it unsatisfactory. It should be different now, it _was_ different now. He reached towards the other man before he had a chance to think and then froze when his knuckles brushed the material of Jim's sleeve. Before he had a chance to pull away, Jim grasped his hand in an easy grip. It was the touch of a friend, drawing comfort and giving thanks.

"Spock, answer me honestly – I know we're friends but this is different, I mean, do you… this would be _different_. This was kind of unexpected, and I'm sorry for putting you in this position but I need to know, what would you do?"

Mysterious warmth flowed between their touching fingers. It moved up to Spock's face, his temples, and he felt a soothing, lulling flow of energy, an invitation, a welcome, an end to aloneness. With Jim, he would never lack a confidant, an ally, an intimate who desired to know the hidden matters of his mind and heart.

"_Lemme be honest, Spock. If you're doing this because it's the Vulcan way or whatever, fine. Humans on the other hand prefer to be cared for, for there to be love, demonstrations of how they'd be treated in a relationship before even considering–"_

"I was told once by someone that becoming the First Officer of the _Enterprise_ was my destiny. I have been content these years with your friendship, Jim…" He wanted to tell Jim that he had a list of qualities that a mate must possess which Jim fulfilled effortlessly, and that they were very compatible judging by their professional and personal interactions. But these types of remarks were not always considered complimentary by Humans.

Spock clenched his fingers around the strong hand, savoring its coolness and quite aware that he could crush every bone in that hand. "Perhaps I am incapable of love as Humans know it – but as there has been no adequate explanation of it, I am free to define it for myself." He stared at the other man unabashed, the veils of Vulcan social strictures and his own embarrassment worn down and discarded. "And I choose to define it as the feelings I have for you…."

At the peripheral of his vision, Jupiter swam slowly into view, a small half-globe of bright reds, browns and yellows arranged in stripes that expanded and became full, almost looming as the ship slipped round the planet's curvature.

There was a light chuckle, "How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"I am merely stating the facts."

Jim grinned at him with the side of his mouth. "Right, just the facts…"

The spark in Jim's eyes sent a blazing curl of heat through his entire being. Simultaneously they leaned towards each other, with a heady awareness that they were alone together. Jim hesitantly reached up and touched his cheek. The shock of that cool touch tingled pleasurably across his skin, leaving him almost light-headed.

"Jim, I know that you are not indifferent to me, but the rituals of human courtship are complex in their definitions of what should happen at this point. Should we –"

"Kiss me," Jim ordered.

Spock studied the indent above Jim's lips, and wondered at how they would feel against his own. Leaning forward, he tentatively pressed his lips to Jim's and felt an unexpected flex of pleasure at the intimacy. Slowly he sank into the sensuousness of their mouths together, warm and yielding. All of his senses were attuned to the smell of Jim's skin, the sensation of their bodies pressed flushed against each other. Jupiter disappeared, rising above them as if it were floating away. Mars streaked past, a barely visible blur of red dust. Spock took no notice. Careful fingers gently followed the upward stroke of his eyebrow then curved down to caress his temple as they finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

For a long quiet moment, they stared at one another, taking in the sight of one another. There was much more to say of course, much, much more…

The moon gleaming brightly as the _Enterprise_ snuck past her and onwards to the hourglass-shape of Earth Space Dock. Slowly the Earth came into view, silhouetted by the glow of the sun.

* * *

Jim glanced over at Spock and fought down the automatic impulse to smile when unerringly, the Vulcan turned to catch his gaze. "Approach Control, this is Captain Kirk of the _Enterprise_. Requesting permission to dock."

There was a small pause before the response came, "Captain Kirk, _Enterprise_ is cleared for docking. Welcome home, sir."

**the end.**

* * *

_well, I hope that wasn't a let down considering there is no smutty fun - maybe next time_

_There was a specific line used in the story which was actually paraphrased from Vonda McIntyre 'The Search for Spock' novelization -- no infringement was meant :) but I'm citing it just in case.  
_

_I'd love to hear what you think, if you enjoyed it rah rah so drop me a comment thanks :)_


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